It happens every year

It's my birthday today.

Woo hoo!

Yeah, that doesn't really work. I remember when I was a kid, I thought that adults were A) lying or B) really boring people when they said birthdays weren't a big deal to them any more. Well, call me boring, because they just don't matter as much as they used to. Don't get me wrong--I love the 7AM phone calls and 20,000 Facebook birthday wishes as much as the next gal. But when I was younger, the entire day seemed to shimmer with excitement. I can go entire stretches of time now on my brithday without even remembering that it is, in fact, my birthday. Birthdays used to be celebrated by staying up late. Now I celebrate by sleeping in late.

I am not one of those people who does not want to admit her age. Maybe I will be some day, but I somehow doubt it. I turned 33 today. For some reason, this has resonated with me on several levels.

33. Thirty three. As close to a third of 100 as you can get. Over halfway to Social Security (if it's still around in 2041). Sirty sree if you talk like Ethan.

The age Jesus was when he was betrayed by one of his best friends, tortured and killed.

Wow.

Thirty two was good to me. Thirty three is bound to be a wild ride--I'll have offspring #3, send #1 to second grade and #2 into pre-K, and have to go from saying the year beginning with "two thousand" to beginning with "twenty." BIG stuff, people. I'm not worried, though. I'm sure God will help me survive through this year and beyond--if for no other reason than to see what I can come up with to write about when I turn 40.

Wild things

A couple of weeks ago, Abby and I went down to Little Rock to help my aunt Linda throw my grandmother a Ladies' Lunch. I know, sounds wild, right?

It was actually quite a lot of fun. I got the idea from talking with my grandmother and hearing how much she missed just hanging out with her friends, laughing and talking and making fun of other people (she didn't admit to that, but we all know it's true). Many of her friends can't drive any more, or don't feel up to lots of outings. I knew that all of them would enjoy a chance to get together.


I was right. We had 9 ladies total--it should have been 10, but my sweet Aunt Joyce had to stay home at the last minute to care for my crazy Uncle Lonnie (he's a trip, and worthy of his own post someday). My Aunt Phyllis even drove in from Birmingham and surprised my grandmother. Once everyone got there, there was not a moment of silence. These chicks have got a lot to say. Since I grew up spending so much time with all of them, you don't have to look much further than that party to see where I got all the fun parts of my personality. Sassiness, brassiness, sarcasm, and a near-violent love of football were all borne in me by these women. Thank goodness! Someone to blame :)


Here are some pictures from the shindig:

My grandmother upon my Aunt Phyllis' surprise arrival. The surprise element did not disappoint.

Eating lunch. Abby was the main server, and she and the ladies thought that was grand.

The group. If there's a cooler bunch of broads on the planet, I don't think I could handle them.